Disclaimer: I do own everything except for Max and Fang. Oh, and I don't own the OCs names, because I'm not creative enough to come up with them on my own.

Jasper parked his truck parallel to the building and checked the gas gauge before turning it off. He swore. It was hovering just above empty, and when it did run out, there wasn't going to be a way to fill it up again. He twisted the key hastily into the off position and pushed open the door, stepping out into the early morning air. It was easier to bring goods in when no customers were around, so they didn't realize how much they were getting ripped off.

He tugged the plastic tarp off of the back of the truck, revealing a diverse selection of appropriated items. He grabbed the guns first; it wouldn't be wise to leave those outside unsupervised. Jasper covered the objects again and hurried inside, eager to escape the numbing chill in the air.

The warehouse was only slightly warmer than it had been outside, and just as dark. Jasper jogged to the office at the far corner, where a single light gave off a dim glow. The weapons were cradled carefully in his arms. His echoing footsteps slowed to a stop as he reached the door. The light flickered as he shuffled the guns under one arm, reaching up the other to knock.

The light went out for almost a second and then came back to life, the intensity even lesser than it had been before. The door cracked open, and Jasper could barely make out the face of Mel, one of the guards.

"Oh," grunted Mel, pushing the door open further and giving a sigh of relief. "It's you."

"It's me," Jasper repeated, smirking slightly. Mel was the only guard who seemed to be afraid of the dark.

"I guess you need me to open the garage, bring your truck in. How much fuel you got left?"

"I think enough for maybe one more run," Jasper lied. "And actually, could we put these away first?" He bounced the guns in his arms.

"Oh. Yeah." Mel abandoned his post by the office and led the way to the firearms section, brandishing the dying flashlight out in front of them. Jasper knelt down and laid the weapons on the concrete floor.

"Don't know why you keep bringing guns," Mel complained. "There's enough tension in this town without them."

"If it makes you feel any better," said Jasper, rising to his feet, "I didn't find as many bullets this time."

Mel grunted his disapproval as they made their way to the garage door. "Did you at least get some batteries? Double A's? Because this thing's about to die on me." He tossed the flashlight precariously and caught it in his beefy hands.

"All types of batteries," Jasper assured him as they reached the door. Mel bent down, grumbling, to grab the handle. He hoisted it up and the garage door rose, the hinges squeaking. Jasper ran back to his truck and pulled the keys out of his pocket.

"Please turn on," he begged the vehicle, patting the dashboard as he turned the keys. The engine sputtered and then roared to life. The gas gauge dropped a fraction lower. The truck surged forward and into the warehouse. Jasper turned it off as quickly as he could. With luck, maybe there'd be enough gas left to drive back out.

Mel strolled over and watched as Jasper opened the truck door, jumped out, and tore off the tarp. He shone the flashlight over the back to view the items.

"Pretty good haul," Mel said appreciatively, pulling out a clipboard and pen. "The boss'll be happy."

It took over an hour to log and sort each item. There were practical items: blankets, canned food, candles, matches, first aid supplies, clothing, but there were also the more extravagant products: books, games, a large selection of alcohol, and several different types of battery-powered electronics.

"Well," said Mel, "Guess that's it." He switched off his flashlight; the sun was coming up and there was no longer a need for it.

"Tell the boss I'll be over later today," Jasper told Mel, who nodded. Jasper backed his truck out of the building and down the street a ways before pulling over to the side of the road and turning it off. Mel tugged on the garage door handle, and it rolled back down.

Max twitched in her sleep, rolled over to face the wall, and started muttering to herself. She'd been doing this on and off for about half an hour, and Fang was contemplating waking her up. It had taken a lot of convincing to get her to fall asleep in the first place, and he didn't want to have to do that all over again. And she needed sleep.

She rolled over again and clearly said the word "No." Fang sighed and stood up. It only took about two steps to walk across the room to her sleeping form. He knelt down and gently shook her shoulders.

"Max," he whispered. At the sound of her name, she jerked awake, sitting up with wide eyes. She looked at Fang and then around at the sleeping flock members, her eyes lingering on Angel. "You okay?" Fang asked. Max nodded, keeping her mouth shut. She was pale and trembling slightly. Fang sat down next to her and put his hand on her arm.

After a while, the shaking stopped and some color returned to her face. "Better?" Fang asked.

"Yeah," she rasped, opening her mouth for the first time since she'd awoken.

"Go back to sleep," Fang ordered, getting up so that she could lie down again.

"No, don't-" Fang turned back to look at her. She hesitated, then said, "I see us dead."

"What?"

"In my dreams, I think it's us, I-" She stopped, breathing so fast she was almost panting. Fang sat down next to her again. Her hand slipped into his; it was cold and starting to quiver again. He waited for her breathing to slow, and she continued.

"I always see the bodies. From… when we were flying to, to get to the flock, and, the basement." Fang nodded, remembering how she had seemed fascinated by them.

"Yeah, and I think-" She paused and swallowed. Her hand was shaking more now. "I think they're us, Fang."

He didn't really know what to say, but she was looking at him, expecting him to tell her something, to try to make it all okay. "Everyone's fine," he said, knowing that it was the wrong thing, because one of them hadn't made it out.

"Iggy," she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. "I see him die. That's how it starts."

"We're not going to die." Fang wasn't sure how to address the subject of Iggy.

"Everyone dies, eventually."

"Don't think like that."

She dropped her head onto his shoulder as an act of defeat. There was nothing left to say, but he didn't want to leave her. She closed her eyes but Fang could tell from her uneven breathing that she was still awake. Everything was silent.

The front door squeaked open. Fang immediately became alert; Max lifted her head and opened her eyes. There was a soft click as the door shut, and then footsteps coming down the hall. Fang stood up, tugging Max to her feet. They walked to the door and stood there, listening. The footsteps went past the flock's room and into the kitchen.

"Stay here," said Fang. Max glared at him and shook her head. "Fine," he muttered, and then pushed open the door. They hurried down the hall and into the kitchen.

A man with dark hair was standing with his back to them, going through the refrigerator. His clothing was ragged and dusty, as though he'd come from close to the ruin. He sighed and shut the refrigerator, then turned around, empty-handed. His eyes went wide when he saw Max and Fang. He opened his mouth, but Fang cut him off.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The man laughed easily, but his hand went to his pocket, where Fang could see the handle of a gun. Max noticed it too, and she stepped forward, in front of Fang. He pushed her back instinctively and she stumbled, grabbing his arm for support.

"Don't get yourselves all worked up," said the man steadily, his hand still on his gun. But they'd made enough noise by now to gain someone else's attention.

A door leading into the kitchen opened, and Cat stood there with her hair a complete mess, looking thoroughly tired and not very happy. When she saw the man, her eyes flashed with recognition. She walked into the room at her own leisurely pace.

"Jasper," she said, smiling in a rather twisted fashion. "What are you doing here?"

Author's Note: Oh, cliffy… Sorry about that. I apologize for the lack of action lately, but it will get more intense a bit later, I promise. This is much harder for me to write than my other stories, so sorry about how long this took. Next week I have school again, though, so don't expect an incredibly fast update. If you review a lot a might have more motivation.

Concerning names: I used Jasper because someone recommended it and I liked it. Also, Mel is a nickname for Melvin, a lovely name suggested by FallingisFun. There will be more minor OCs later, but Cat and Jasper are the main ones, I think…

Concerning other stories: I have four chapters of Betrayal posted currently, as the chapters are shorter than these and much easier to write. Since posting the last chapter of this story, I have also put up a new oneshot called Paint My Mind. I would really appreciate it if you guys could check those stories out! Thanks!

Anyway, thanks to my reviewers this week: FangsBestFriend, Jayde3, disneydork, therealme1123, Someone aka Me, FallingisFun, RippedIntoPieces, GoonlaLagoon, senoritasophia13, 14rosestar15, Kristin, Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (?), stewie-for-govenor (x6), and PolkaDotFeathers.